


A Costume for Mama

by MarieQuiteContrarie (SeaStar1330)



Series: Floof Family Superheroes [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Rumbelle - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Avengers Family, Bae is almost scarred for life, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Halloween, Multi, Rumbelle - Freeform, Rumbelle Halloween, Superheroes, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, because Belle and Gold can't help themselves, there's a little smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 10:33:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15604389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeaStar1330/pseuds/MarieQuiteContrarie
Summary: Retired from her work as the Black Widow, Belle is thriving in her life with Gold and eight-year-old Bae. As superhero crazed as ever, Bae comes home demanding Belle wear her Black Widow uniform for his school costume party, but she's not sure it's a great idea.





	A Costume for Mama

**Author's Note:**

> Follow up to Lay Bare the Heart. You don’t need to read LBTH to get it, so if you enjoy costume party tooth-rotting Floof Family fluff, read on!
> 
> Dedicated to madasateacup, because LBTH is her favorite and she's waited long enough. Special thanks to galactic-pirates for being my beta for a story she prompted.
> 
> Madasateacup prompted: When was the first time Bae called Belle mom?  
> Galactic-Pirates prompted: Your Avengers crossover Lay Bare the Heart. Prompt - full costume fluff with Bae at Bae’s school.

_Eleven months after the events of Lay Bare the Heart_

 

“Costume party! Costume party! Costume party!” Bae barreled into the house and tossed his backpack on the dining room table.

“I guess the bus is here,” Belle said, spreading her arms wide for a hug. “How was your day, sweetie?”

“Awesome!” He squeezed her ribs hard and pulled back, brown eyes gleaming and cheeks rosy with cold air and exertion. He shucked his coat and hung it over the back of a dining room chair, all little boy energy and business. “Second grade is having a costume party for Halloween in two weeks!”

“Sounds like fun. How was today’s math test?” Belle tried not to grimace, but she wondered why the schools insisted on teaching each generation to do math using a different method. Was it punishment for parents? As if math wasn’t bad enough the first time around. “Was it tough?”

“Nah, fractions are easy!”

“Better you than me, buddy,” Belle said with admiration and ruffled his dark mop of curls. “Wash up for dinner and set the table, okay? Your dad will be home from the shop any minute.”

After _Miss Belle’s Leaves_ , Belle’s book and tea shop had burned to the ground, she and Gold decided to combine _Gold’s Weaving and Antiques_ and Belle’s store into one retail and service venture. Their new store, _Pages from the Past_ , sold antiques, fabrics, and threads, as well as new and vintage books and a wide variety of loose teas. So far, Storybrooke’s response to the combined shop was positive. After only two months in business, the store was crowded with customers every day and they were already turning a profit.

Bae nodded and peeked into the pot of sauce simmering on the stove. “What’re we having?”

“Spaghetti with meat sauce.” Belle smiled in response to his toothy grin, pleased to be offering his favorite dinner.

Most eight-year-olds loved spaghetti, and Bae was no exception. Thank goodness pasta was practically idiot-proof and through trial and error, she had even learned to make her own tomato sauce. Belle was still getting the hang of cooking, and next month she was going to try preparing Thanksgiving dinner for the first time, with Gold’s help, of course.

Bae sniffed the warm, garlicky kitchen air then opened the refrigerator. “Is there garlic bread?”

“Always.” It was another one of Bae’s simple favorites, and one she was proud to have mastered. “Think I can handle the turkey next month?”

“Sure!” he chirped.

Belle turned back to the stove and set the pasta water to boil while Bae continued to rummage in the fridge. From the corner of her eye, she saw him emerge with two slices of leftover pizza.

“Put the pizza back, kiddo,” she said, just as he lifted the first slice to his mouth.

Startled, he dropped the slice on the counter, his brown eyes wide with amazement. “How did you...but...I’m growing!”

“You may be growing, but I have eyes in the back of my head,” Belle reminded him with a laugh. “Pizza will spoil your dinner, but how about if I slice up some of the apples we picked at Enchanted Farms while you set the table? You can dip them in peanut butter.”  

Appeased by her suggestion, he plucked three napkins from the counter and folded them in half, while Belle took the dinner plates out of the cabinet to the right of the stove then set them down, then stirred the sauce and added a pinch of oregano.

“So, Bae, what are you going to wear to the costume party?” she asked, rummaging in the cabinet for the cutting board. Thanks to years of using knives as weapons, knife skills were the one aspect of cooking she had no trouble with. In moments she’d cored and sliced two apples.

“The name’s Neal, remember?”

Belle tilted her head. Neal and his kid brother, Gideon, were the stars of Bae’s favorite new graphic novel series, _Handsome Heroes_ and for the past two weeks, he had insisted on being called Neal at home.

She didn’t see the harm in humoring innocent whims, but she and Gold kept a careful watch on his superhero interests, especially following his kidnapping last autumn by one of Belle’s arch enemies.

Abyss, alias Milah Gold, had used Zelena Greenelea to take Bae from school. Since Bae had been a baby, Callum and Bae had believed that Milah died in a car accident. But she’d reemerged as the villain Abyss, and in an insane attempt to wipe the planet and begin a new, perfect race, she’d stolen her son back.

Working together, Belle and Gold had rescued Bae. Miraculously he’d been unharmed, and they’d even managed to keep Belle’s true identity under wraps.

Only the three of them, plus Gold’s best friend Jefferson and her best friend Ariel knew Belle was the Black Widow. Anyone else who might reveal the truth about that day was either dead or in jail, but it had still been a traumatic experience.

One Belle never wanted to repeat again.

“Very well, _Neal_.” She set a plate of sliced apples on the table, snagging one to nibble on while she finished dinner. She switched on the oven light to peek at the garlic bread. “Do you have costume ideas?”

“Sure.” His little face glowed with happiness and Belle’s heart flipped over. “Incredible Hulk, Captain America, maybe Spider-Man. Which do you think would look best with Iron Man and the Black Widow?”  


“Black Widow?” Belle focused on chewing her apple slice.

Yep. It’s not just a party for the kids you know,” Bae said. “The whole family is invited to come in their costumes. So you can come and be the Black Widow.”

“Forget Black Widow.” Belle’s smile fell as she dismissed her old alter-ego. “Pepper Potts is the best and I’ve always wanted to be her! Don’t you think she and Tony would make great adopted parents for Peter?” 

“Forget the Black Widow? You can’t be serious!”

Belle tensed. She knew Bae was crazy about superheroes and loved her work as the Black Widow, but she was underground. She’d retired from S.H.I.E.L.D. soon after they’d brought him home again. Yes, she stayed fit by practicing her martial arts, but Belle French wasn’t a lonely spy with multiple identities anymore. She was Belle Gold now—co-shopkeeper, wife, adopted mother.

Black Widow was more of a curse and responsibility than a blessing, and she’d hung up the widow’s bite once and for all, but Bae hated keeping her identity a secret.

Guilt pricked at her and she smothered a sigh. “We can talk more about the costume party during dinner, love. Is it strictly for superheroes?”

* * *

Bae wanted to lie and say yes, the party was strictly superheroes, but it wouldn’t have worked. 

Not only was Belle annoyingly good at smoking out his fibs, he could tell his excitement about the party was making her nervous. Whenever she was worried, she bit her lip and stared into space, like she was doing right now. She was cool about his comic books and his Avengers pajamas and posters. She’d even been calling him Neal like he asked. But whenever he talked about the Black Widow, she got quiet and looked out the window.

Frowning, he leaned against the counter and dragged a chunk of apple through a dollop of peanut butter. Seeing Belle sad made his tummy hurt, but what was the big deal?  


Last November after his kidnapping, he’d had a couple of bad dreams when they first came home. He was fine now and life was good. Papa and Belle got married after Christmas last year and he’d even been best man at the wedding alongside Uncle Jeff. But Belle and Papa still got anxious about making sure he was ‘well adjusted.’ Whatever that meant.

Milah, the woman who had been his birth mother, hadn’t really scared him. She wasn’t his mother anymore, anyway. He didn’t know her and she’d left when he was a baby. He’d trusted Belle and Papa to rescue him and bring him home, and they had.

“Uncle Jeff and Grace already have their costumes and so does Miss Ariel,” he said, sidestepping the question about superheroes.  


Belle turned around, her eyebrows raised. “Jefferson is bringing Ariel to a children’s school party?”

“A family school party,” he corrected. “And yep. Grace says Miss Ariel is tops.”

“I agree,” Belle said. “And I love your uncle and Ariel. But Jefferson is a known libertine and…”

“Libertine?” He squinted at Belle. “But Uncle Jeff doesn’t work at the library, he’s a tailor.”

“A libertine isn’t a profession; it’s someone who engages in a lot of relationships.” Belle pressed her lips together, which was usually a signal that she was done talking about something. “Set the table for supper, please, Ba...Neal.” She corrected herself just in time.  


He decided to test the waters again. “If I set the table, will you come to the costume party as the Black Widow?”

Belle narrowed her eyes.

“Black Widow doesn’t negotiate with hostiles,” his father said from the kitchen doorway. He twirled his cane between his fingers, his eyes sharp. “Belle asked you to do something. Now get a move on.”

“Fine,” Bae huffed and grabbed for the plates.

* * *

“I can’t be the Black Widow, honey,” Belle said as the three of them sat down at the kitchen table to dig into steaming bowls of spaghetti and meat sauce. “What if someone recognizes me?”

“But she’s my favorite.” Bae ducked his head, twirling the long, slippery noodles round and round on his fork.

This entire conversation was so stupid. Belle was insisting on being Pepper Potts at the costume party so Papa could be Iron Man and he could be Spider-Man. Why didn’t Belle want to wear her black jumpsuit and show off a few martial arts moves? Much as he wanted to brag about Belle to his friends, he wasn’t going to tell anyone she really _was_ the Black Widow who had rescued him.

The last thing he wanted was for Belle to get into some kind of trouble with S.H.I.E.L.D., but couldn’t they have fun just this once? It was Halloween, his favorite holiday next to Christmas. Candy, costumes—what was not to love?

Belle looked at his father. “I think it’s a mistake.”

“But you don’t think it’s a mistake having Papa be Ironman?” Bae asked. Surely Belle could see this made no sense. “Like he was when you guys rescued me?”

“That was different. Honey, if your heart is set on us being superheroes, why don’t we go as The Incredibles? Your papa can be Mr. Incredible, I can be Elastigirl and you can be Dash!” She clapped her hands.

“We don’t have a baby to be Jack-Jack,” he complained. “Or some moody teenage girl to be Violet. And what about Edna? And Frozone?”

“How do you know about moody teenage girls?” Belle asked.

He swallowed a bite of spaghetti. “I read.”

His father choked on a sip of wine while Belle concentrated on refilling his glass of milk, her lips pressed together to keep from laughing. Though what was so funny was anyone’s guess.

“You could still be Spider-Man, Papa could be Iron-Man, and I could be Elastigirl,” Belle suggested.

“What?” Had they lost their minds while he was at school today? “We can’t just _mix_ universes.”

“Right, I forgot.” Belle held up her hands in mock surrender. “No Incredibles.”

“Besides, even if we did have a baby she’s going to be a girl and I’m going to name her Hayley,” he said.

“Who is Hayley and why are we naming an unconceived member of this family?” Gold raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat.

“I just conceived her,” Bae explained.

“I don’t think you understand the definition of-”

“Hayley is from the _Handsome Heroes_ series,” Belle reminded his father, cutting him off with the look she gave him whenever the conversation wandered into grown-up territory and she wanted him to stop talking.

Papa fell silent and Bae curled his lip. He wasn’t a dummy. He was eight and old enough to know where babies came from. If you wished really hard and put up a pretty baby room with soft curtains and stuffed animals and a crib, at night fairies would come and plant a garden in a mommy’s tummy. And if you were lucky, one of the flowers would grow into a baby you would get to name and keep.  


“Let’s get back to the subject of costumes,” Papa said. “How about Popeye and Olive Oil? You could be our can of spinach.”  
  
Bae wrinkled his nose around a bite of pasta. “No way! I hate spinach!” 

“No spinach.” Belle snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it! I’ll be Belle and Papa can be the Beast. You can be Chip.”

“The Beast?” Bae crossed his arms in disgust, dropping his fork into his bowl of spaghetti.  Sauce splattered on the table. “You’re so not taking this seriously, Belle.”

“It was just an idea.”

“Yeah. A real dumb one.” He took an enormous bite of garlic bread.

“Hey,” Papa said, tapping his plate with his fork.

“What?” he challenged, his mouth stuffed with buttery bread.

There was the look again, the serious, eagle-eyed stare warning him that if he didn’t watch himself, he was going to end up grounded in his room without the Nintendo Switch. Tonight he didn’t care, though. Papa and Belle weren’t listening, and he was tired of explaining himself.

Unflinching, his father continued to stare at him while Bae crunched on his garlic bread.

“First of all, mind your manners,” Papa said. “This isn’t how a gentleman conducts himself at the table. Second, if you can’t be respectful of Belle and me, there won’t be a costume party for you. Period.”

Bae tossed his bread on the table, scattering a trail of crumbs from his plate to Gold’s. “It’s not fair! Why can’t we let everyone see that Belle is awesome?”

“Son.” His father squeezed the top of his nose, something he did when he was getting impatient. “Would you think less of Belle if she didn’t have special abilities?”

Bae crossed his arms and glowered. They were missing the point. His mama was _the Black Widow_ , his favorite superhero ever, and it was top-secret. So secret they couldn’t even play make-believe at his school party during Halloween.

“No,” he admitted grudgingly.

“Good. Now finish your dinner.” His father returned to his meal, an annoying half-smile on his face that made Bae want to kick him in the shin.

He balled his hands into fists and pushed back from the table, his plate still half-full of pasta. “I’m not hungry anymore.” He turned to Belle. “May I be excused, please?”

“Yes, of course,” Belle said. “Why don’t you head upstairs to do your homework?”  

Bae’s insides churned like scrambled eggs. The frustration simmering inside him was building to a boil. He picked up his backpack and started to walk upstairs, then turned around. “You guys don’t understand anything and you’re being big huge jerks!”

* * *

Belle watched Bae stomp up the stairs, flinching at the dramatic slam of his bedroom door. “Did he call us big jerks? Wow. Isn’t eight a little young for tween drama?”

“ __I think it was big huge jerks _._ Leave the plates,” Gold said drily when Belle stood up to clear the table. “Since he’s so grown up, he can clean up the kitchen.”

“Fair enough.” She dug her nails into the back of her chair and cast another worried look toward the staircase.

“Come here, Mrs. Gold.” He patted his lap and tossed his cane to the side, a sexy, lopsided smile making his eyes sparkle.

“This isn’t funny,” she chided. But she rushed into his arms for comfort all the same. Careful not to touch his bad knee, she vaulted into his arms and straddled him, one leg on each side of his thighs. She rested her forehead against his with a heavy sigh.

“It was a tantrum, sweetheart. Let him cool off and apologize. May I remind you, Bae was obsessed with superheroes long before you came to Storybrooke. He’s been whining and wheedling to get his way with everything from comics to costumes since he was four years old.”

“It isn’t that I don’t want to make him happy,” she said, snuggling against his chest. “I know how he feels about the Black Widow. But I haven’t gone out like that in public for almost a year and even then, it wasn’t for a party. I was doing my job. A dangerous job for a life I’ve left behind. Is it selfish of me to not want to tempt fate?”

Belle pressed her lips together, truly considering the idea for the first time. “Maybe I could avoid pictures?”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners the way she loved. “There’s the spirit. We can go for an hour, make him happy, and put the outfit away. Not until after he apologizes for his outburst, though.”

A weight Belle didn’t know she’d been carrying lifted at his words. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been projecting her old insecurities onto Bae. “Why can’t I be calm and reasonable like you?” she asked with a watery laugh.

Gold hummed and stroked her hair. “You can be the calm one next time we have to launch a dangerous rescue mission, okay?”

Belle giggled and gave him a chaste kiss that quickly sparked, spiraling into something more heated.

After six months of marriage, none of the newlywed bliss had worn off, and it was difficult to keep their hands off each other while they worked together in the shop every day. They escaped to the back room and left Ariel in charge more often than she cared to admit, but even those midday trysts weren’t enough.

He kneaded her hips while he kissed her, then pulled her blouse out of her skirt. His warm hands skimmed up over her ribcage to cup her breasts, causing warmth to pool in her belly. She groaned, squirming in his lap. His hardness brushed her core and she wriggled and twisted, settling herself more firmly against his hips and forgetting the awkward dinner. “Cal, you feel so good.”

“Mmmm,” he nuzzled her throat. “How long do you think we have before Bae comes back downstairs?”  


“Could be minutes…oh!” She gasped as he latched onto her neck, sucking a vein into his mouth. “Maybe an hour,” she rasped.

“Long enough to please my _very_ responsive wife,” he said before his lightning-quick fingers dipped beneath the waistband of her knickers to stroke her. He was right; already she was hot and swollen, eager for his touch.

“But you…” Her breathless protest was half-hearted at best.

“Will be fine until tonight and we can lock our bedroom door,” he finished, licking at her lips. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, and in less than a minute she was panting and shamelessly riding his hand while she chased the finish. Cal kept their mouths fused together, swallowing her moans as he pleasured her with those long, clever fingers.  

Her orgasm stole over her, hard and fast, and he captured her cries with a final searing kiss. She panted while she recovered and he licked his fingers, giving her a look so hot she shuddered while the aftershocks of her release still pulsed through her.

“What are you guys doing?” a small voice asked.

_Busted._

She looked over Gold’s shoulder. Bae was standing in the hallway between the den and the kitchen shuffling his feet, a dejected look on his small face. 

Belle moved to scramble off Gold’s lap, but he held her in place, his hands flying up to cup her jaw.

“Eyelash...right _there,”_ Gold said, flicking an imaginary speck off her cheek.

“Thank you,” Belle said with a shaky smile, then climbed off Gold’s thighs and turned back to Bae, who had changed into his Iron Man pajamas. She took a deep breath. “How long have you been standing there, honey?”  


His brow furrowed in confusion. “I just got here.”

 _Oh, thank God._ A grateful look passed between her and Gold.

“You owe us an apology, Baelfire,” Gold said, rising to stand beside her.  
  
“I know. I’m sorry, Papa.” His lip trembled and he burst into tears and threw himself into Belle’s arms. “I’m sorry, Mama. You don’t hafta dress up as Black Widow or anyone else. Even if you never do another jump kick again, I still love you!” 

 _Mama?_ Torn between laughing and crying, Belle caught her breath, falling to her knees to embrace him. “What did you say?”

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed against her neck. Fat, warm tears spilled down his face and puddled on her blouse.

“No, no.” Joyful tears stung her eyes and she pulled back to wipe his chubby wet cheeks with her fingers and beamed at Gold, who was blinking at the ceiling and trying not to cry. “I heard your apology, honey. Yes, of course, I forgive you. I meant...you called me Mama. You’ve never said it before.”

“You are my mama.” He searched her face and sniffled, his bleary eyes wide and hopeful. “Is that okay?”

“Oh, baby.” She kissed his forehead and wrapped her arms around him again. “It's more than okay. It's wonderful and you've made me very happy.”

“That was an admirable apology, Bae," Gold said. "I'm proud of you. But your display at dinner has still earned you a punishment and you're cleaning up the kitchen."

"Yes, Papa," Bae groaned.

"Come on, son." He kissed the top of Bae's head and guided him into the kitchen. “I’ll help you load the dishwasher.”

* * *

The morning of the school costume party dawned clear and cold, and three very authentic-looking Marvel costumes—Spider-Man, Iron Man, and Black Widow—lay on the dining room table awaiting their party debut. Someone with an overactive imagination might even say the outfits were real versions acquired through S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Phil Coulson himself, but that would have been preposterous.     

Bae was up at 5:30 a.m., dressed in his costume, and already eating a bowl of vintage Spider-Man cereal when Belle and Gold stumbled downstairs in their bathrobes to make coffee.

While the coffee percolated, Gold sat at the table reading the _Storybrooke Mirror_ and Belle stood at the sink as the sun began to cast its glow over the yard. A flurry of red and orange leaves danced through the grass and skipped toward the dormant rose bushes. Behind her, Bae tiptoed to the counter and swiped a finger through the dark, rich frosting on top of a Black Widow chocolate cupcake.

“Caught ya!” Belle crowed, coming up behind him to lift the tray out of reach. “Leave the cupcakes alone, Spider-Man, and go put your jeans and a shirt on over your costume. The party isn’t until later.”

“Mama, you snuck up on me again!” He grinned, looking more delighted than put out about being discovered. “Geez, I forgot all about those eyes in the back of your head.”

The second grade was going to host the party in the last two hours of the school day and dismiss the students with their families. Belle had no idea how a bunch of eight-year-olds were supposed to take learning seriously with an event like this looming or how Bae was going to stay awake until 2 p.m. without a nap after getting up before dawn, but she supposed it was a good way to learn discipline.

Bae scampered up the stairs to his room and Gold poured two mugs of coffee, then came up behind Belle and wrapped his arms around her waist, pretending to reach for the tray of sweets. “What about me? Do I get a cupcake?”

She giggled when he nuzzled her neck and playfully smacked his hand away. Ariel had come over to practice baking cupcakes with her twice, but these were her first attempt at baking without supervision. The finished products were a little lopsided, but she was proud of how they turned out anyway.

“You have to wait until later like everyone else, Cal,” she said with mock sternness. “Drink your coffee.”  
  


* * *

The school costume party was everything Bae had hoped for and more.  


In the morning, instead of teaching, Miss Blanchard let them read or do seatwork and talk, as long as they kept their voices quiet. Later, she read _The Berenstain Bears and the Spooky Old Tree_ and _The Night Before Halloween_ to the entire class. 

Then they finished putting their costumes on in groups. Bae quickly took off his jeans and t-shirt and stuffed them in his desk, revealing his Spider-Man costume underneath.  
  
The combined gymnasium-auditorium where they learned to play basketball and dodgeball, as well as hosted school concerts, had been transformed. Giant fake spiders hung from the ceiling along with spooky chandeliers covered with black webs. A machine made it look like the floor was covered with fog, and a mix of spooky songs and superhero themes played through a speaker connected to Miss Blanchard’s iphone.

And the food! There was warm apple cider, a caramel apple “nacho” bar with different varieties of sliced apples and all kinds of candies to put on top, Hulk smash green punch, chips and green deep, and even a fruit platter with strawberries, blueberries, and marshmallows arranged in a circle to look like Captain America’s shield.

Bae spotted Mama and Papa over by the punch bowl near two kids from another class dressed like Queen Elsa and Luke Skywalker and ran over to say hello. “You guys look awesome!”

“Thank you, son.” Gold lifted his Iron Man mask, his white teeth flashing. “I had a little help from your mom with my costume.”

Bae nodded in approval at Mama. She made the perfect Black Widow, a dark and dangerous counterpart to Papa’s flashy red and gold Iron Man suit. “Wow, widow’s bite bracelets? Cool!”

Belle glanced at her wrists. “Knockoffs, but yes. I didn’t want to try too hard, but I also don’t want to look like a dork.” She winked at him like they were sharing a secret and her smile made him feel all lit up inside.

August Booth, who sat in the desk in front of his and liked to launch spitballs at Miss Blanchard’s desk, was dressed as Captain America. His costume was decent, Bae had to admit, but he had a big mouth and was always trying to get Grace to sit beside him at lunch.  
  
“You don’t look anything like the Black Widow, Mrs. Gold,” August said, tapping her on the shoulder. “Your hair’s too long _and_ it’s the wrong color _and_ it’s in a braid.”

Bae gritted his teeth. Who asked him, anyway? August was such a know-it-all, but Mama didn’t let his dumb comments bother her at all.

“Oh, really? I didn’t realize.” Mama patted her pretty French braid, pretending to be confused. She looked down at her midnight black jumpsuit. “Is there anything else wrong with my outfit?”

August frowned and looked her up and down again. “Black Widow is tough and strong. No offense, Mrs. Gold, but you’re way too nice to pass for her,” he added.

“Miss Blanchard says ‘nice’ is a first-grade word,” Bae grumbled.

But Mama beamed at August like he deserved some kind of medal. So what if he’d won first prize in the jack-o-lantern carving contest, anyway? His dad was a wood carver! Besides, Mama and Papa had creamed all the other parents at Halloween charades. They could read each other’s minds and finish each other’s sentences.

“No offense taken at all,” Belle said. Thank you for your honesty, August. I’ll make sure to try harder next time.”

“Or maybe you could just wear a different costume.” He shrugged and wandered over to the buffet table to get a cookie.

Bae stuck out his tongue at August’s retreating back. “Who cares what he says?” He rolled his eyes. “Mama, your costume is the best one here. Everyone says so. Even Miss Blanchard thought it was very impressive. August is a liar! He should have dressed as Pinocchio.”

“Don’t worry about it, honey,” Mama said. “I’m not here to win a costume contest or anything. All I care about is spending time with you and having fun.”

“I never liked that August,” Uncle Jeff said, holding up his own Captain America shield. “Little dweeb stole my costume idea.”

“Jefferson!” Miss Ariel and Mama said at the same time. They both slapped him on the arm.

“What’d I do?” Uncle Jeff grinned and shoveled one of Mama’s cupcakes into his mouth, polishing it off in two bites.

Papa just shook his head and smiled. Usually, he was the one yelling at Uncle Jeff for acting more like a kid than a grown-up, but he seemed happy to let Mama and Miss Ariel take over as his enforcers today.

“Be nice to the other children, Jeff.” Miss Ariel, who was dressed like Agent Peggy Carter, pressed her bright red lips together and linked her arm through Uncle Jeff’s.

Uncle Jeff looked at Miss Ariel the way Papa looked at Mama, his face all soft and mushy. Their weird googly eyes made Bae feel nauseous and happy all at the same time.  


Even Mama looked happy to see Miss Ariel and Jefferson together and when Uncle Jeff and Papa talked, Mama and Miss Ariel put their heads together to whisper and giggle, just like some of the girls in his class did. He shook his head. Girls were strange. Except for Grace; she was cool.

“I like your Supergirl cape,” Bae told Grace with a smile. Even though she was dressed as a DC Comics character, Grace was his friend so he was willing to let it slide. Her outfit was better than most of the class, who hadn’t even bothered to dress as superheroes.

In his opinion, everyone should have dressed up as Marvel characters, but when he asked, Miss Blanchard explained this is a free country and we can’t tell people what to do. He wanted to tell her it was only a free country because the Avengers kept it safe, but he figured the comment would land him in the principal’s office. He’d nodded and closed his mouth.

Between the parents, teachers, and other kids, there were plenty of witches, skeletons, princesses, heroes, villains, and angels. There was even a Hershey’s chocolate bar and a giant red crayon.

“Wow, I never realized how much Miss Blanchard looks like Snow White,” Mama said, sipping a cup of punch. “Extraordinary.” She tapped his father on the shoulder and he lifted his Iron Man mask again. “Cal, who’s the guy over there with the dark hair and the eyeliner dressed like? Is he supposed to be Captain Jack Sparrow or Blackbeard?”

“I see a hook for a hand,” Papa mused, “so I’m guessing Captain Hook.”

“Pirates.” Mama shook her head. “They all look the same to me.”

They ate cupcakes and admired costumes while Uncle Jeff showed off his skills at the bean bag toss, landing it in the large wooden jack-o-lantern’s nose every single time. He won a big mixed bag of candy as a prize, which he promised to share with Bae and Grace.

At last, Miss Blanchard clapped her hands and stepped onto the stage to announce the winners of the costume contest. When she shouted that Belle Gold had won Best Overall Costume for the Black Widow, Bae’s grin stretched so wide it made his cheeks hurt.

Smiling, Papa put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. It was obvious he was as proud of Mama as Bae was.

“Told you the Black Widow was the right costume for you, Mama,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around Belle’s waist for a congratulatory hug.

He’d wanted everyone at school to see how cool his mom was—and now his dream had come true. This was the best party ever and he couldn’t imagine a day filled with more fun and excitement…except maybe Halloween…or Christmas…maybe his birthday.

Mama threw an air punch and struck a dramatic superhero pose as she accepted her award certificate from Miss Blanchard and he grinned.

“Belle—I mean Mama—she really is the best, isn’t she?” he said to his dad.

Mama ducked and weaved around the stage like a boxer in the ring until Miss Blanchard laughed.

“Indeed,” Papa agreed. “She’s super.”

###

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.


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